Black and White.

Sometimes I just want to stuck in that time when I had
nothing to worry about.

About money, about responsibilities, expectations and making
decisions.

To be free from being an adult and being that awkward
teenager again when my issue was about my clothes and my weight and my face,
nothing else.

To be quimsy and smiling about everything, but it’s hard
nowadays when I see people are moving on without you, leaving you behind.
Wondering and pitying myself, wishing will I ever be like them.

Just being able to let go of this misery that grasp you by
your heart, telling you it will just fall apart and the only thing that soothes
you is your dreams at night.

I am just feeling that everything that revolves around me is
so staged and fake that sometimes I do feel like a cliché, hiding behind a
mask, just smiling to everyone around you because you are so afraid to show
your vulnerable side.

Because being vulnerable is like being exposed to a group of
strangers. You can never anticipate the reactions from them whether they elicit
or not, and that makes you nervous because you never go that unprepared in
life.

Everyone has their own happiness while I grasp around
reality that I am going to be alone in world with my silent phone, and silent
notifications. No hope that he will ever find me in this messed up world.

It’s like being that emo kid singing Avril Lavigne song,
just singing inside my room and bottling up my feelings while resent about my
accomplishments.

I don’t feel accomplished. I don’t feel like I achieved something
and I hate myself for it.

But people just don’t see that. People just don’t
understand.

I guess I am really just alone in the world, alone with my
imagination.